Little, red, round, pitted fruit was my dream of happiness. Just the thought of holding a cherry in between my fingers and then biting into it, feeling the juice squirt in my mouth was sheer joy. It didn’t matter if the cherries were baked or fresh off the tree, I could never get enough.
I thought the neighbors next door were the luckiest people in the whole world because they had a huge cherry tree in their yard. Tim, the boy who lived next door, knew I liked cherries and he also had a crush on my oldest sister, Gwen. One day I was in the backyard alone.
“Hey twin, what you doing,” I heard him say.
“Nothing,” I replied.
“Want to come pick some cherries?” Little did I know it was just a ploy to get Gwen close to him.
“Ya,” I said. “But I’m not allowed in any tree without one of my older brothers or sisters.”
“Then maybe you could get Gwen to come help you,” he said smiling. My little mind could hardly comprehend the thought of having all those cherries to myself. Off I went, hoping I’d convince her to pick cherries with me. I was so excited when she actually helped me climb in the tree and pluck those tender fruit from their birthplace. It wasn’t long till the bag was full and she helped me to the ground.
I felt like I had died right there on the spot as I stood enjoying the warm, sweet, juicy taste of each cherry I greedily popped into my mouth.
I left Tim’s yard and went to show Mom the cherries I had picked. I was so proud of my small bag of joy.
“Mama, look what I got from the cherry tree next door. Gwen helped me pick them,” I said happily. She smiled and looked in the bag.
“Wow, that’s a lot of cherries in there. How about we make a cherry pie for supper? That way you can share your cherries with everyone.” All I could think of was eating each and every one of those cherries, but I knew in my mind that Mama would not allow me to sit and eat all that fruit. So I agreed to share the cherries in a pie.
“Good girl,” she said. “I’m proud of you. Come on, and help me make the pie, okay?”
“Okay.” We mixed the crust, and then put the pie in the oven to bake. It was great fun, just Mama and me.
“There’s extra filling left. Let’s bake it in this little bowl.” Mama said. In the oven it went beside the pie. When it was done she brought the bowl of warm, juicy fruit to me.
“Cindy, you can have the extras for being good and sharing.”
“Thanks, Mama.” I took the bowl and sat at the table slowly putting each red, round piece of fruit in my mouth savoring its warm, sweet flavor that called all my taste buds to attention. Nothing on the earth tasted as good to me as those cherries.
At supper that evening I was allowed to serve my pie to everyone. Mom told the other kids I had picked the cherries and decided to share them with everyone. I gave her a big hug. She
smiled and hugged me back. I knew then that Mom understood after all about the delicious, wonderful fruit I had so lovingly picked.
